Isabella

I tried my best to act the part of a senator’s daughter as I moved through the crowd to make polite conversation with strangers. My mother never came home after her fight with my father. She was also a no-show for the charity gala. Because the Vos family was a major donor to the hospital, I was warned to be on my best behavior. Dear old Dad was furious with my mother, putting even more pressure on Mark and me to perform.

This was a performance after all, nothing more than a show for the man my father wanted me to marry. His parents were lovely, more down to earth than I ever would have imagined for billionaires. I almost wished I had Erik and Sonya Vos as parents, which almost made it easier to say yes to the arranged marriage. But I wasn’t going to be a pawn in yet another one of my father’s games no matter how charmed I was by the family.

Karl, on the other hand, he was still the awkward and unusual boy I’d known from years ago, only better looking and well spoken. He hooked his arm through mine and escorted me around the party. I chugged several glasses of champagne since we were introduced, hoping I would get drunk enough for my body to go numb from the torture.

My father’s colleagues stopped us—because everyone wanted to get close to Karl and me. I hated every second of it. Karl tugged on my arm when I glanced across the roof at Stephan. He looked amazing in a navy suit. Stephan owned every speck of fabric attached to his body. When Stephan moved, he was graceful, as if every step was carefully planned out. Regardless of his attire, he looked out of his element at this party.

Karl tightened his grip on me, whipping me out of my Stephan-induced trance. “Isabella was just telling me how much she loves Aspen,” Karl said to people whose names I’d already forgotten.

I nodded. “Uh-huh. Aspen is beautiful. My dad owns a house there.”

One time, when I was a kid, we went to Aspen on what was supposed to be a family vacation. But it was all a lie. We made it to the slopes to take a picture for some article, and then we were sent away for a spa day. Everything in my life was a pre-planned stunt to make us look like a real family, when we couldn’t even stand to sit in the same room together for dinner.

Fulfilling my role as Karl’s arm candy, I offered fake stories to people, leaving out the disgusting truth. We talked about my time at Columbia and what it was like to help my father with his campaign. Karl filled them in on the current state of Vos Shipping and his plans for the future of the company. He wasn’t the CEO, at least not yet. But he seemed pretty on point when it came to his industry.

Compared to Karl, I was a misfit, a girl who only attended an Ivy League school to put the name of the university on a resume. I couldn’t confess I had no immediate life plans because my father wouldn’t allow it.

It was weird to be so close to Stephan without being able to touch him. Whenever we were near, the air hummed between us like an invisible force field drawing us together. To distract myself from staring at Stephan, I drank flutes of champagne like a champ, pretending I didn’t hate transforming into someone else, someone I would never be. It was like wearing an invisible mask, one I could never take off.

Mark walked up to me, adjusting the gold cufflink at his wrist. “Having fun?”

I laughed. “Is that a joke?” Lowering my voice, I turned away from Karl to talk to my brother. “Save me. Please.”

He forced a smile. “Try talking to all these politicians who do nothing but talk about themselves.”

Mark had plans to run for public office someday. That was why he spent so much time with our father. With our familial connections, Mark would have been a shoe-in. But I could see it was wearing him down, and with all the drugs he snorted up his nose or shot into his arm, he was falling apart. The weight of our family was heavy on his shoulders, as it was mine.

I glanced around at the wives of powerful men, knowing the expressions on their faces all too well. They looked just as unhappy as my mother did most days. As miserable as me. Stephan was the only person who made my heart beat, made me feel whole again.

“Get a drink with me,” I said to Mark.

He tapped Karl on the shoulder. “Mind if I steal my sister for a few minutes?”

He flashed a closed-mouth smile at Mark and then me. “Don’t be too long. I have a few more people I want you to meet.” Karl released me from his strong hold, and I was relieved to have a minute to breathe without him hovering over me.

“Five minutes,” I promised, even though I wanted to run the fuck away from him and never come back.

Mark steered me toward the bar and ordered a vodka martini with three olives for me, and a glass of whiskey for himself. “So, how’s it going?”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “You want the real version, or the Dad approved version?”

He laughed and handed me the martini a beautiful bartender with long, dark hair set in front of him. “I take it your betrothed isn’t as expected.”

“No, not at all,” I said under my breath, making sure no one could hear me. “And don’t call him that. I can’t spend another hour with that man, let alone the rest of my life.”

“I’m sorry for suggesting it.” He sighed and then sipped from his glass.

“You came up with this ridiculous idea?”

He shook his head. “No, that was all Dad. I confronted you about it. I’ve felt bad about it ever since you stormed out of my office during lunch. I shouldn’t have asked you to do that.”

“Don’t worry about it. That was weeks ago.” I waved my hand to dismiss him. “I know it was because he told you to do it.”

We moved away from the bar and closer to the edge of the roof. I raised the martini glass to my lips and stared out at Central Park. The sight was breathtaking, the city alive and full of energy. I loved coming to the city. It wasn’t hard for me to understand why my mother enjoyed being here so much. And yet she couldn’t even bother to show up. She had no excuse when her apartment was only a few blocks away from the party.

“How can I get out of this?”

Mark shrugged. “You mean the wedding?”

“Yes.”

“One way or another, Dad always gets what he wants.”

“Would you do me a favor?”

He gave me a sideways glance. “What kind of favor?”

“Lend me some money from your trust fund.”

“Why do you need money?”

“To run away. I can’t access my money for a few more years. He won’t even let me get a job. I’ve tried to apply for a few, and he finds ways to block me from getting them. The vacancies are suddenly filled or I’m not qualified. It’s like being a prisoner, Mark. Please, will you help me?”

He scratched the corner of his jaw, his head tilted to the side as he thought over my request. “I couldn’t give you much. Maybe ten thousand dollars. Dad monitors every cent I spend.”

“How would you explain that much money then?”

He pointed to his nose, and I understood he meant drugs. “I’ve spent more than that in one week when I was on one of my benders.”

My brother was never meant to follow in our father’s footsteps. He was too unpredictable, too out of control to ever hold a public office. His manic bipolar episodes were controlled with medication, but when he would work for days on end and forget to take it, that’s when he went off the rails. We had to rein him back in every time he lost his edge.

I hugged Mark and squeezed the life from him. “Thank you so much. You have no idea how much you are saving me.”

“The money won’t last long, Bella. You won’t get far until you have to come back.”

I released him and took a step back. “I only need enough to get me started.”

“We can’t have contact if you decide to leave. And if Dad finds you, don’t mention I helped you. He will assume Stephan took you. Think long and hard about this plan. Your secret boyfriend will go down with you, and you won’t even be around to bear the brunt of the fallout.”

He was right. My dad would assume the worst and ruin Stephan’s life out of spite. Even if I couldn’t be with Stephan, I still couldn’t do that to him. I also didn’t want to leave Mark or Carmella.

A man I didn’t recognize waved to Mark, flagging him down. “Will you excuse me? I have to deal with this. Go find Karl before he comes looking for you.”

I feigned a smile for him and sighed. “Thanks, Mark.”

Mark disappeared into the throng, leaving me alone by the ledge. It took every ounce of strength I had to force myself to find Karl, when the only person I wanted to seek out was Stephan. I glanced around the rooftop, the crowd too thick to see through. Moving toward the bar, I spotted Stephan and Nino hanging out on the other side of the roof. They were drinking from highball glasses, their bodies angled away from the party. Stephan looked as thrilled to be there as me.

“You look miserable.” Stunned by his breath on my ear, I turned to look at Karl.

“I’m just bored,” I admitted. “And tired. It’s been a long week for me.”

He nodded, as if he agreed, and took a swig of amber liquid from the glass in his hand. “I bet working on your dad’s campaign is draining.”

“You have no idea.”

“I’m sure you think an arranged marriage is the worst thing that could ever happen to you, but it’s not. There are a lot of perks that come with being part of the Vos family.”

I tried not to roll my eyes at him. “I don’t like having someone tell me who I’m supposed to marry. I never get to choose anything. My father does. I wanted this to be the one thing I did on my own.”

“The situation is temporary,” he confessed.

His statement caught my attention. “How temporary?”

“We need to stay married for two years, or at least make it seem like we are married. I’ll gain access to my trust fund and have more shares in the company, you will walk away with a sizable divorce settlement, and your father’s trade deal will go through without issue. It’s a win-win for everyone.”

“Except for me,” I shot back, pissed off. “I don’t care about the money or a stupid trade deal.”

His eyes clouded from the dark storm passing through them, but he didn’t let on to his anger. Unlike me, he was more than happy to play the role of fake fiancé to get what he wanted. He held out his hand for me to take. “Dance with me, Isabella.”

I gritted my teeth, forcing a closed-mouth smile for anyone who was looking, when I really want to punch this asshole in his pretty fucking face. He slipped his fingers between mine and led me to the dance floor. He moved one hand to my waist and the other to my shoulder, spinning me in circles. For someone so tall, he was graceful, light on his feet. My jaw hurt from fake smiling, my body so tense Karl must’ve thought he was holding a mannequin in his arms. Not like he cared. All he wanted was a trophy wife to aid him in his devious plan.

“You’ll like our house in the Hamptons,” Karl said to me, his lips too close to my ear. “Would you like to come for a visit? Perhaps, a weekend trip so we can get to know each other better.”

“I’m pretty swamped with my dad’s campaign.”

“Let me deal with him. I’m sure the Senator wouldn’t mind giving you a few days off to spend time with me.”

Karl was an incredible dancer, whipping me around the dance floor without missing a single step. Had it not been for him leading me, I would have fallen on my face a few times. The champagne was finally kicking in, a nice buzz making my head a little fuzzy.

“Mind if I cut in?” my father asked at the end of the song. He looked to Karl for approval. “May I?”

“Of course.” Karl stepped away from me, and my dad took his place.

“You look beautiful, Isabella,” he muttered. “Karl is lucky to have you.”

I glanced up at him, watched him give me a rare smile, and wanted to retreat. He never smiled unless it was for a camera, which made it even creepier.

“Have you changed your mind about Karl?”

I shook my head, turning away from his intense gaze.

“This is what’s right for you and your future. Why can’t you see that?” His grip tightened on my shoulder, and when I tried to wiggle free, he dug his fingers into my skin.

“Can we not do this here? Please. I can’t have this conversation right now.”

“Fine,” he grunted. “This isn’t over.”

We danced without speaking another word. I hated every second of it.

Someone yelled from a distance, followed by the entire party erupting into chaos. People scrambled over to the edge of the roof, gasping in horror. Some guests covered their mouths in shock, others screamed, while some took out their cell phones to call for help.

Pushing away from my father, I moved through the crowd until I reached the edge, staring down in horror at the man, face down on the pavement.

“Who is that?” Someone asked, the same question repeated for several minutes. “Did he jump from up here?” So many questions were being asked, but none of us could see the person’s face to answer them.

My dad found his place next to me and asked if I’d seen my brother. I scanned my surroundings, desperate to find him. He had disappeared after we shared a drink, not to be seen since. The cops and paramedics arrived within minutes of the accident. Of course, my father had to be at the heart of the scene, forcing himself into the drama.

I rode the elevator downstairs with my father. Police were roping off the crime scene with yellow tape. A man laid flat on his face, smashed into the sidewalk. Police ordered people to back up far enough to give them space to work.

My father exercised his authority, and we were ushered forward. It wasn’t until we were standing right outside the roped off area that fear shook through me. A policeman handed my father a leather wallet I knew well. Because I had bought it when I was on vacation in Paris… for Mark.

My eyes filled with tears that wouldn’t stop. I screamed so loud my ears hurt from the sound of my own voice. “No, no, no…”

Mark was dead.

My brother was the jumper.

None of it made sense.

He seemed fine the last time I saw him. Why would he do this? The longer I looked at his body, I couldn’t breathe, my chest so heavy it felt like it was weighed down with sand.

“Senator Parisi.” The officer flashed his badge and introduced himself, all of it noise in the background. “I’m sorry to inform you, but your son, Mark, is dead.” He handed my dad Mark’s wallet that he’d retrieved from his pocket.

My dad clutched it against his chest and dropped to his knees on the ground next to me, sobbing into his hands. I touched my fingers to his shoulder, tears of anger and sadness streaming down my face.

Did someone kill my brother?

Was it the man he said he had to deal with?

Would he really jump?

He had a history of mental illness and drug addiction.

But still…